Thursday, April 19, 2018


By the desert swimming hole,
A cottonwood hangs
A frayed, knotted rope
Between buff sandstone boulders

And dark green water.
If you were robust enough,
You could jump from a boulder

Catch the rope, swing out over
The water and drop.
You are not. You crouch in shade

With a stick, dragging letters
In the sloughed-off sand.
The letters rise up to dance,
Grab the knot, swing out, and drop.

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